


The Wind Is Blowing

by Infamous_society



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Battle of Five Armies, Battle of the Hornburg | Battle of Helm's Deep, Character Study, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Mirkwood, Sea-longing (Tolkien), The Silmarillion References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29039886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infamous_society/pseuds/Infamous_society
Summary: A lifetime with Legolas
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf/Original Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Male Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Reader, Legolas Greenleaf/You
Kudos: 12





	The Wind Is Blowing

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song Legolas sings at the end of ROTK

He smiles. Serene.

And for one moment again you are reminded of climbing trees, scrambling high above raging rivers, mud splattered on your faces. A childhood love.

Days when you would sit huddled next to the fire as the same river hummed its ancient melody. Celebration perhaps. An imparting of knowledge and tradition as you plucked brambles and sloes from the laden boughs.

Days where your swords were merely twigs you had found, where you would bask in the June sun before wading knee deep into the water, him at your side.

The peace in his face is constant, only the currents of grief, anger and fear occasionally weather its soft plains.

“I dream of the light,” Your voice is melodic, quiet. The bodies of your sleeping companions spread around you.

He smiles, a child once again, “I dream of the sea sometimes.”

An understanding hangs crisp in the air. Your love has changed, grown into something tainted by darkness. The brambles now trap you in their thorns, the sloes sour. Yet you are intoxicated.

A raw, wild love.

For sometimes you become one mind, one soul. On the battlefield your dance is intricate, mesmerising, perfected. In the halls of kings, you speak the same words in harmony - an alluring, confusing melody. Under the skies, your dreams are shared, flickers of salt water and blinding light. 

Together you hear the gulls call.

You watch the stars with him. _Look, there is Valacirca, all is not lost_. Nights when the watch grows cold but you do not feel the biting wind. The mountains, the forests, the plains. You sit, hand in hand, warm and comfortable. The stars call you to Valinor. Your duty remains in Middle Earth. You hand him a piece of lembas bread.

He fears sometimes, he would not speak his doubt out loud but you see it nevertheless. It is the fear that you saw the day he first led the guard, the fear you saw at Ravenhill, the fear that ached his limbs at the Hornburg.  
He fears he will not survive the battle, he will not be by your side once more. You fear too - fear that one day you will fall and he shall have to face eternity alone. Perhaps he will fade.

He stops for an instant. You see the boy who struggled to hold a sword, a mischievous grin as he ran through the halls. But there is also the confident, mellowed archer who you would follow to battle for eternity. A king lingers there too, a burden that hides in the shadows of his face, he endures. He is all - you love him still.

“I saw Mirkwood when we crossed into Rohan,” he stares into the dark night, his hand clutches yours. You smile.

The stars are veiled - the sea is a distant lull in your mind. You watch him intently.

There is a distant sorrow in his mind: for friends that no longer walk under the stars, for the sound of the sea, for the knowledge these moments in the Fellowship will just become another passing season. 

“The pain is lessened by your presence,” he turns, the missing starlight lays secure in his heart. His thoughts are yours, your words are his.

A silence hangs over you. A lament for your friends who have not fallen in battle but who you will watch die. _Aragorn. Éomer. Faramir. Éowyn. Merry. Pippin._ The list is never ending. They will die and you will sail. A longing for the days in the wild together. Those days will never come back.   
  


A bird swoops low in the quiet. It is not a gull.

  
You watch the bodies be lowered into the earth, the mortal men will wander where even you cannot see. A mere blink in your watchful gaze. He stands next to you. The stars watch over you both, beckoning you home.

He is battlehardened, he is weary. His life is yours. Some days his weapons are too heavy with grief for him to carry, your bow protects him. He will not let the others see. But you have known him since before their kingdoms existed. You have danced, fought and loved him before their forefathers walked the merciless earth.

Autumn leaves fall in Mirkwood. You stand on the precipice, watching the age of your people crumble into ruin. He still remains by your side.

Your voices echo around the stables, singing tales in dialects that even Aragorn cannot understand. Stories of waking for the first time under the stars, of journeys into the wild forests, of endless love and sacrifice.

“Ele,” the first word the elves spoke, gazing upon the starlight. The praise, glory, wonder pour from his lips like wine in his father’s halls. He looks at you as if you are the starlight; hallowed, ancient, loving.

“Ele,” your voice is a mere echo of his, blending into one soul.

Somewhere a horse snorts, the cruel earth churning beneath its hoof. The moment flickers into the waves of time.

Grief consumes him occasionally. He watches the sky as the rain lashes against his skin. An age old ritual, sitting together in awe as the clouds weep. The boy who used to scale the trees to feel a drop of water on his face still hides within, now stricken with an aching weariness and a devastating pain. Thousands of footsteps walked together weigh heavy on your hearts, leading into eternity.

A faint twinge of midsummer sun breathes, ghostly and taunting, through your minds. The cover of darkness conceals its own secrets.

“I dream of the sea,” a whisper that disappears into the night. He hears - he knows.

He smiles softly, a child once again, “I dream of the light sometimes.”

_Do you hear them calling,_

_The voices of my people that have gone before me?_


End file.
